


Dona nobis pacem

by WolfAndHound_Archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Second War with Voldemort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 21:15:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5943310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfAndHound_Archivist/pseuds/WolfAndHound_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus grieves, and finds a bit of reassurance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dona nobis pacem

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Lassenia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Wolf and Hound](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Wolf_and_Hound), which was created to make stories posted to the Sirius_Black_and_Remus_Lupin Yahoo! mailing list easier to find. However, even though I still love the fandom, I am no longer active in it and do not have the time to maintain it. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2015. I posted an announcement with Open Doors, but we may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Wolf and Hound collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wolfandhound/profile).

He hadn't eaten since it happened. He'd barely slept, come to think of it. He'd been in and out of the house on Grimmauld Place unpredictably and no one, to his intense relief, had called him on anything. Molly was busy lately and might not have noticed his absence-he hoped she'd dismissed it to a call of duty. The rest of the Order never asked questions. It was a good trait.

He was very pale, and black shadows (Black, he thought morbidly) hung beneath his eyes. It was a miracle that he'd changed his clothes-he couldn't recall doing so.

The full moon was weeks away, but by his appearance it would seem he had endured a week's worth of transformations. So it came as no real surprise to him when, as he attempted one evening to return unnoticed to the room he and... they had shared, Molly Weasley intercepted him and began promptly to reprimand him.

"Lupin," she began, hands on her hips, "get in this kitchen right now, young man."

He cringed. And it had been a long time since he'd been called "young man."

"For heaven's sake, you look awful! How long has it been since you've slept? It doesn't look as though you've eaten anything for a while, Remus, you really ought not to do that to yourself, it's not healthy. I would have thought you would have more sense than... than this, and I'm so glad I ran in to you sooner rather than later, because you'll just waste away, you're thin enough!" 

She kept an unhappy eye on him as she bustled about with the tea kettle. 

"Honestly, I can't believe I didn't notice this before. You're too good at making yourself scarce, Remus. Just when we get Harry sorted out I find out that you're starving yourself, and if Dumbledore heard about this he wouldn't be happy, I assure you. You really shouldn't neglect yourself like this, especially now, when we need you more than ever..." she trailed off. 

He'd barely looked at her; that was most unlike Remus. She tried to catch his eye, but to no avail. He was seated at the kitchen table, trying his best to blend right in to the wood of his chair. Quite a bit of his hair had gone gray, she noticed-- had he been that gray before? And she'd thought it impossible for his complexion to lose any more color, but it certainly had. He looked like... well, like a corpse. It seemed to be his goal.

Steam furled from the spout of the kettle, and she poured him a strong cup of his favorite tea, with sugar, then milk, just the way he liked it. She pushed the cup in to his hands, which shook even when rested on the tabletop.

She sat down opposite him and tried again to catch his eyes. It seemed they were focused very strongly on the old wooden tabletop, unmoving. The muscles in his jaw were tense.

"Remus," she said, gently this time. He finally looked up at her, but the warm gray eyes were flat, and the light in his eyes seemed to have gone out. There was no sign of the mischievous sparkle they had sometimes held, in the right company.

"Are you all right, dear?"

The jaw clenched and released, and he swallowed before speaking. "I-" his voice was very hoarse. "I'm all right. Really." She was struck by how young, and how lost, he looked. It broke her heart. She also didn't believe him for a second. "Would you like a bit of soup?"

Very quietly, "no."

"A bit of bread? You need to eat something, dear-"

"I'm not hungry." The words, as they came out of his mouth, were not at all harsh, but spoken quickly and with finality. Molly gave a great sigh and got up from her chair, tidying the already tidy kitchen.

Remus took this as his cue to escape. Leaving the teacup full on the table, he slipped from the room and was too far gone for Molly to call him back.

He entered the east wing of the house and didn't bother to light any lamps. The rooms that they had shared were at the end of the corridor; he entered them.

The bedroom was dark and dreary, the curtains were pulled closed over the windows and no light penetrated through. He stood at the foot of the bed for a moment before he walked to the side, and he sort of collapsed on to the bed, on Sirius's side.

The pillow still smelled like him.

The bedclothes still smelled like them.

Remus lay, curled on his side, his face pressed to the pillow. He recalled nearly a week ago when they had last lain together here, his hands carding softly through thick black hair, Sirius pretending to be asleep in the crook of his arm, their legs entwined. Dusting of a beard lay across Sirius's chin darkly, and Remus could never resist running his fingertips or cheek along the roughness and he'd done so. Heavy lidded eyes fluttered open and the blue gaze pinned him intensely.

Sirius had always had that intensity. Kept him honest. He'd so hated having to remain in this house and Remus knew it, though they didn't speak of it much. Remus remembered how vibrant he'd been in youth, and how he must surely be going stir crazy. Add to that years of being hunted, and over a decade of entombment in Azkaban- something deep inside him asked not-so-discreetly why Sirius could put up with the confinement. He could never have done that.

"Moony?" The name poured from those lips. His lover raised himself up slightly, one hand cupping the side of his jaw.

"Yes?"

"What if..." he pressed his eyes shut for a moment, "what if this doesn't work? What if there's something we're overlooking, and we can't keep Harry safe?"

Remus pulled Sirius against his chest, his hands moving to grip strong, but still too thin, shoulders. "Then we fail, Sirius. It will be the end. Because Harry is all that keeps this world from falling."

"I would die for you, you know."

"I know. I wish you wouldn't, but I would die for you as well."

"I wish you wouldn't, either. So we're even, then?"

"I suppose so."

"If-I..." Sirius was undecided how he wished to phrase this, and when he spoke, it was so soft. "I'm not afraid to die. But I'm afraid to leave you." He sighed deeply.

"We'll be all right, Sirius." He'd leaned down, then, and kissed his mouth softly. It was easy to say such things to each other, in the dark, and it was getting easier to look each other in the eye when both knew that they might not be all right.

A sleepy Remus stretched out slightly on the bed and his arm searched for Sirius. He woke with a start when all he found was cold; the horror returned to him in full force and he clenched his jaw. He stood up, and heard footsteps coming down the corridor. Molly, most likely, coming to try to get him to eat. He needed to go, but he didn't know at all where, so he just went. Around to one of the side rooms they hardly used, out the door quietly as Molly hurried past, past the portrait of S... of his foul, wretched mother, and out the front door. And he just walked.

He didn't realize where his feet were taking him until he'd already had his wand checked at the Ministry of Magic. He looked around as though awakened from a trance, and perhaps that's what he'd done, how he'd gotten here. Now that he was here he knew he couldn't go back until...

He somehow made it to the Department of Mysteries. Down the dark corridor, to the dark door. Kingsley Shacklebolt was standing outside it, guarding, apparently.

"Afternoon, Remus," he said, his deep voice very soft.

"Is anyone..?"

"No, just left. It's all yours if you wish."

"Thank you," he managed. His throat was thick.

His legs recalled the way to that room, and when he reached it the images came in full force. It had been so unexpected. He had stood here, right here, when he watched Sirius die. They'd all dueled madly, Sirius with all the expertise and speed of his youth, and then...

He remembered how long it had taken for him to fall. He remembered his legs being completely useless, they wouldn't move fast enough, they wouldn't fucking move, and then Remus saw the expression on his face-he had been so confident in himself, Sirius had, and it had been dashed. Too quickly to do him justice. He was gone, through the archway, never to return. And there wasn't a damn thing he could have done.

They couldn't even give him a proper funeral, without his body. Anger spiked sharply in Remus, the haze of things he'd been walking in all day fell away sharply and he cried out in anguish once. Just once, before sinking, trembling, to his knees near the dais.

And then he heard the whispers.

He let his shaking hands drop from his face and leaned close to the veiled arch. He'd known it contained incredible power, this place. He had its suspicions about it. A passage straight to Death, perhaps. He rose unsteadily and walked around the arch, and he could feel the magic around it even if he stepped back a bit. He raised his outstretched arm and caught the edge of the veil in his hand, pulling it slightly to the side. The whispers increased in volume. He pulled the veil aside even more, wariness prickling the back of his conscience (all of his formal training encouraged him to avoid situations like this. But this was important). He looked around the edge of it.

It was very dark in there, which did not surprise him. A gateway to Death wouldn't be too terribly welcoming, or you'd get all sorts of weirdos trying to cross the barriers at will. Throwing caution to the wind, Remus leaned in closer, but not close enough to cross the plane of the arch.

"Sirius." His voice was astonishingly steady.

The voices inside had clearly heard him, the sounds they made now seemed to be an inquiry to those inside. Then, suddenly, they were quiet.

"Sirius?" He sounded a bit more apprehensive.

"Remus? Remus, can you hear me?"

"Yes... where are you, Sirius?"

He heard eerie footsteps. "Right here," and he saw the beloved face once more. Sirius was gaunt, and pale, and looked rather afraid of facing him.

Remus reached for him.

"Stop!" Sirius looked horrified, and Remus lowered his hand. "Don't... don't come across, Remus... not yet... I... oh, god." Sirius screwed his eyes shut for a moment. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry... I left you, Remus, it was..."

"No, Sirius," the tone of Remus's voice gave no room for argument. "We resolved the guilt long ago. It's all right. I'm-"

"Don't even say it. You're not. You look like you've had a month's worth of full moons. And no food, or sleep, or any rest at all."

"You sound like Molly."

"Merlin. Sorry. I just... I wish-"

"As do I. If I were to... to touch the plane, I could be with you."

"Right," Sirius's voice was nervous. "But... wait."

Remus raised an eyebrow. "I told you under no circumstances was I above dying for love."

"You also told me you wanted to see this through, didn't you?" Sirius's voice was pleading. "I need you to stay. Please, take care of Harry, Remus, he's-he's the one thing that keeps the world together, isn't that what you said?"

"Yes." Remus steeled all his resolve.

"And if you have to die to protect him, know that I'm here, waiting."

"I'll be with you again. I'll come see you here again." He swallowed. "They'll grant us peace in the end."

"Please do, and I hope so."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Albus Dumbledore stood at the edge of the room and he heard their desperate voices. He saw Remus kneeling beside the arch, picture of grief and exhaustion that he was. His heart, already heavy with guilt, acquired a new burden. He hadn't known they had been in love.


End file.
